The Unexpected
by xlasting.memoriesx
Summary: Blue. Light, cerulean blue. Just as the instructions said; there was no denying it now. Not to her mother, her teammates, her best mate, but mostly, not to herself. This was actually happening. The twenty-two year old, unmarried, raising Quidditch star, Ginny Weasley, was pregnant with Harry Potter's baby. The unexpected had happened. Was she ready?
1. Prologue: The Discovery

"_Nearly all the best things that came to me in life have been__unexpected__, unplanned by me.__"_

_-Carl Sandburg_

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Prologue:

**12 May 2003; the Discovery.**

"You okay Weasley," pondered Valmai Morgan, as she flung open her cubby and grabbed her bag. "You look a tad green."

Ginny Weasley half-shrugged, with her head in her hands, as she sat in front of her on designated cubby clutching her Quidditch bag to her chest. "Yeah, I must be catching something," she lied, before slowly raising to her feet, "It's probably nothing."

"Better be, for your sake," warned Morgan, slinging her bag over her shoulder, "Gwenog will be pissed if you get sick. Next match is against Puddlemere United and you know she takes greatest pleasure in slaughtering them."

"Don't worry," smiled Ginny, swinging the door to her cubby shut, "Griffiths won't know what hit her. She'll be wishing she never left the _right_ team."

"That's what I like to hear!" Gwenog Jones, Captain of the Holyhead Harpies, walked around the corner with an overly elated grin on her face. "Remember, girls," she slung a lazy arm around Morgan's shoulder, "we have to win this match. It might be the last I get to watch that little traitor loose."

"You're really considering retiring, aren't you?" asked Ginny, leaning against the lockets once more. A sickness brewed in her stomach, though she fought to mask it. Morgan was right; she couldn't get ill, especially not now, though she had a feeling it was something else.

"It's a shame," sighed Jones, letting go of Morgan and heading to her own locker to grab her belongings, "but I'm just not like I used to be and I love this team too much to harm it, though giving it up is probably the toughest decision of my life."

"I'll be damned," Morgan shook her head, "I never thought I'd hear you say those words aloud."

Jones shrugged, "I just want to go out before an injury forces me to." Turning back to the other two members, Jones laughed, "Now, enough with this talking and let's go celebrate our latest victory! The Falmouth Falcons never stood a chance!"

"You lot go head," smiled Ginny, "I promised Harry I'd spend time with him after the game." It was amazing how easily it was to lie to her teammates, though from the look in Morgan's eyes Ginny knew she caught it. Luckily, Jones was always too caught up in herself and Quidditch to notice much of anything else; that was just another thing that Hermione got correct.

"Ah, well, go spend time with that boyfriend of yours today, but you're coming to celebrate after our next win. That's not an option," stated Jones, leading the way from the locker rooms, "Got that?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," called Ginny, as she watched the other two vacate the place.

She was alone at last; her head was pounding, her muscles were aching, and her stomach was continuously twisting. It had hit her towards the end of the match, but luckily she was able to fight through it and battle back anything trying to force its way up her throat. She wanted to take a Potion, but couldn't until she knew leaving only one thing left for her to do.

Scanning the area a final time, she assured herself that no one was going to barge in on her— not now or in a little bit. And Harry had to stay over at work, so she didn't have to worry about him waiting for her appearance. This was it— the perfect time to see.

Her hands were shaking so much as she unzipped her bag and pulled out the box shielding the potion kit that she could barely unfold the directions to it. She read over them carefully, as she had done right after she had managed to steal the unopened package from her sister-in-law, Fleur. The result could be one of two things; the potion would remain the same color or change into a bluish one. She prayed to Merlin it was the first.

The fear and anxiety bundling within her wasn't from what Harry would say, for she already knew what it'd be, or her Mother's reaction, the women was in some sort of frenzy, or the World's explosion, after all she came quite used to it from Quidditch. No. It came from only one thought: this wasn't what she wanted in life, at least not yet. In the Quidditch World, she was still a newbie. Three years were nothing compared to most careers.

Following the procedure on the instructions, she did what little was asked of her and waited. Time seemed to slow down, and she wondered what Fleur, even Audrey, felt when they did the same. Endless fear mixed with a dab of excitement? Panic? Sheer terror, which only magnified when Ginny looked back at the potion?

Blue. Light, cerulean blue. Just as the instructions said; there was no denying it now. Not to her mother, her teammates, her best mate, but mostly, not to herself. This was actually happening. The twenty-two year old, unmarried, raising Quidditch star, Ginny Weasley, was pregnant with Harry Potter's baby. The unexpected had happened. Was she ready?

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**A/N: I have restarted this story.I actually have a solid outline, now. This chapter did not change. The next one has. So, anyone who has read this story in the past, please read the newest Chapter 2. I, also, read a story that was set up based on time and I thought it would help showcase the journey more efficiently than what I was doing before. Thank you. **


	2. Chapter 1: 6 Weeks

**A/N: Please read this chapter, even if you have already read the old Chapter 1. I've added and changed the set up greatly. Thank you!**

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Chapter 1:

**12 May 2003 (6 weeks)**

**6:03pm**

Slugging her bag onto her shoulder, Ginny double checked to ensure there were no lingering players before switching off the lights and stepping out into the dimming sunlight. The chilled air smelled fresh and brisk bringing forth memories of the recent victory. Her mind had been so wrapped up in the nausea and aches that the euphoria never overtook her; instead, she was only filled of anxiety and fear. It shouldn't be that way. Fleur and Audrey were drunk on happiness upon learning the news.

Freezing, her heart stopped. She had drunk a little over a week ago at the five year celebration of the Final Battle. It wasn't as much as she usually drank, but the symptoms didn't show until recently and her monthly visitor always varied. How could she have known? Tears began to burn the corners of her eyes, as her breathing labored.

_You're already a horrible mother_.

She nervously ran a hand through her hair, pulling at the ends. A couple loose stains fell out and she dusted them on to the ground, before taking a couple breaths to steady herself. Scanning the grounds, she doubted any press remained but it never hurt to be cautious. After an explosive Quidditch career, as well as dating The-Boy-Who-Lived, she began to never underestimate a journalist hungry for a juicy article. The information didn't even need to be true, a picture of her crying was enough to spark break up rumors or something possibly even worse.

"I was under the impression you were going out with the team tonight?"

"What?" asked Ginny, surprised, as she spun around to see Harry leaning against the exterior wall of the locker room. Nausea erupted within, but she covered it with a soft smile. "Oh, I didn't expect to see you here."

"I didn't expect to be here." He unfolded his arms from his chest, before slowly walking over. "However, Jones told me I had a bit to wait for you, as you were taking forever. She told me to quit distracting her chaser." He smirked, before briskly pecking her lips. "I hadn't known I currently was."

Ginny shrugged, kissing him lightly and placing her hands on his chest. "Well, I thought you wouldn't mind to see me. Drinking until I couldn't stand didn't sound as appealing as originally."

Her lips twitched into a smile, as her hands slipped around his neck. She made sure to play with his shirt collar knowing that always sparked something inside him. Instantly, he stood straighter and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Oh, trust me. I don't." He rested his head against her's. A smile stretched across his face calming her nerves as though it was a potion to rid her of her newfound reality. Perhaps, tonight would be the perfect opportunity to tell him, but she couldn't. The reveal refused to surface, not until she was positive of what she wanted.

Even now, his emerald eyes were shining orbs of unconditional love and concern. Despite his thickness, he cared. It was the one thing that always awed her, even as a little girl star struck from his fame. And if Ginny knew anything, it was the Harry would never turn his back on family and the thoughts plaguing her mind could be considered that.

But they had a plan. He'd understand that, as well. Looking away, the smile was no longer her rescue, since his eyes shimmered brighter.

Falling back onto her heals, she dropped her hands and gazed at the stadium towards the left. It felt as though all the air within her left leaving her quietly suffocating similar to after a sharp dive on the broom. She swallowed hard.

"You still not alright?" asked Harry, taking a hold of her hand and recapturing her gaze. "Valmai told me that you didn't seem to feel well after Jones left. She'll murder you if you come down with something."

Ginny feigned a laugh.

"Yeah, don't remind me…"

There was a moment Harry stared hard at her as though she was an ancient rune he had to decipher. Fortunate for her, it was a class he never took at Hogwarts and he didn't learn well as an Auror either. He focused on tactic, evidence, and action, rather than the extreme mental exhaustion sector. That would've been more of Hermione's forte if she had decided to join the career path.

Still, he was beginning to read people efficiently, better than the other's at the ministry and that worried her. Her history with a house full of brothers and her sixth year at Hogwarts taught her to conceal her emotions well, but that didn't mean the skilled wizard couldn't break through the walls. Despite being known as remarkably strong, Ginny was aware of her limits. And this moment was getting close to the edge.

"I'm alright, okay?"

She played it softly, once more trying a charming smile to distract. However, the emotions continued flaring within. She was on the verge of morphing into a frantic, crying mess. That would be the reddest flag, so she had to do something else: anything else.

Inhaling deeply, she repeated the nervous hair movement and once again dusted the pulled hairs to the ground. The silence tortured her, causing her mind to continuously guess whether he figured anything out or not. Past issues sided with her, but she knew he wasn't as thick as Ron and she wasn't sure how professional she was masking her nerves.

She needed to get away and slip from underneath his concerned gaze. _Yes, that's what I need to do_. It was her only plan, so she hoped it worked. But how?

Biting her lip, her mind tangled her tongue and all words were lost. Mentally cursing and subconsciously pulling away; Harry let go immediately and narrowed his eyes, even though the rest of his body visibly relaxed.

"Right… um, well I was going to have dinner at the Burrow, everyone but Charlie will be there. No one was expecting you, but I mean, if you're up to it, I know they'd be thrilled to celebrate your victory with you?"

She let out a deep breath, unsure how it progressed past the sickness but pleased it did. Nodding her head, she grabbed his hand again and began pulling him in an Apparrating safe-zone.

"I said I'm alright. So, what're we waiting for? Let's go enlighten my family. Everyone knows I'm the favorite anyway."

She heard him chortle, as he followed.

"Thank Merlin Ron's not around to hear that."

**7:30pm**

"It's a good thing that Jones caught you before you left," said Ron, as he refilled his mug with the Butterbeer that George brought. "Or else, Ginny might've been mad. Those Bat-Boogey Hexes…" He shuddered. "Bloody hell, they hurt."

"So, I've heard," mumbled Harry, tapping his fingers against his mug as he mind replayed the situation in his mind.

"Don't listen to him. Ron doesn't know that. She probably would've realized nothing was planned," protested Hermione, before sliding the rest of the bottle from his reach. "And honestly, you'll be drunk before eight at this rate."

The redhead rolled his eyes and took a sip. "Hey, it's not my fault everyone else is wasting the bottle."

"So, that means you have to drink all of it?" asked Hermione, underneath a disapproving laugh.

Ron glanced between two and then lightly shrug. Hermione instantly corrected his logic, but Harry felt his mind drift off. Something was off about Ginny, and even though Ron wasn't right, he might've been on to a reason why. The problematic part was that Harry couldn't recall a reason for her to be upset, especially one as to why she chose to sit between Victoire and Dominique. Yes, she adored her nieces and Teddy wasn't there to entertain the three-year-old, but something felt different. Did he miss a lunch date or-

"Harry? You alright, mate?"

Ron's voice and waving hand retrieved him from his thoughts, and he blinked a couple times to regain sense of the situation. However, the previous conversation had ended and both were sending him worried glances.

"Yeah, just spaced for a moment." He muttered, before hiding behind a sip of his drink; he tried pushing the only reason out of his mind, but it kept coming back. It didn't make sense.

Hermione shared a look with Ron, who stiffly nodded, and Harry caught on to what was about to happen. Placing his mug on the table, he stood up and paced backward some.

"Everything is fine. I promise. We're fine- Ginny and I. It's fine."

"But Harry-"

"No, Hermione. I don't want to hear it," stated Harry, strictly. "If I say we're fine, we're fine. You don't need to meddle."

"But we aren't meddling, mate. She obviously chose to not sit by you at dinner and-"

"And there are plenty of reasons why. The main one was that we came late. We hate making everyone move in order to be next to each other anyway. Plus, you know how excited Victoire gets to be next to her," argued Harry, already having the excuses ready to use.

He didn't know why he was using them, when he, too, was aware of the situation, but he learned it was easier to claim ignorance than to discuss his relationship with his girlfriend's older brother. Ron might've been his best mate, but he had been her brother longer. Hermione made him rethink things through too many times to want to talk to her, as well. Still, they were better than any alternates.

"Harry, there is no reason to get defensive. We're just worried and care. We wanted to make sure we couldn't help in anyway," explained Hermione, sending him a half-smile but keeping the serious intensity in her eyes.

Slumping back into his chair, he placed his head in his hands and sighed. Defeat fell upon him and if he didn't talk about it now he knew Hermione would bring it up again. At least with Ron, the topic was a onetime deal and then it was over. Maybe, it could keep him from falling into complete despair.

"I know. Trust me. _I know_."

"That bad?" asked Ron, swishing around the contents in his mug.

Considering his options, Harry rested his chin on his fist and stared at his mug in front of him. "Honestly? I don't know. I know she hasn't been feeling well, so all of this could've truly been a last minute change of mind, but… I don't know… it's just… I think there might be something more."

"Well, did you think about anything you might've pissed her off with? It's what I do whenever I think Hermione's mad at me," advised Ron, sincerely.

"You're a prat, you know that?" Hermione gently slapped his arm, before centering on Harry, once again. "Please, don't listen to Ron, because chances are there's a thousand reasons why she'd be upset, or maybe, it is that she isn't feeling well. Have you asked her about any of it?"

"No, that thought never crossed my mind, Hermione," sarcastically replied Harry, while raising his eyebrow. "But seriously, do you really think I'm thick enough to not ask her if she's alright?"

Rolling her eyes, she defended her assumptions. "Well, I wasn't sure. You could be like Ron and see your girlfriend crying, come sit right beside her, and then turn on the Quidditch game without once vocally recognizing something was wrong."

"When are you going to let that go? That was one time and I thought you were trying to hide it. How was I supposed to know it was news about your parents?"

"That's not the point, Ronald. The point is-"

"Well, if this is what you're going to be discussing, I'm going to go catch up with George, maybe talk to Ginny if she stops avoiding me."

"Wait! She's avoiding you?" Hermione asked, placing a hand on his shoulder and forcing him back into his chair. "You didn't tell us that."

"Bloody hell, this isn't looking good for you, mate," mumbled Ron, before dodging Hermione's swat and hiding his smirk behind his drink.

Harry chugged his drink, before exclaiming, "Well, that's what I'm assuming, because every time I've approached her since dinner ended, she has magically had an excuse to leave me be. Plus, I don't think she wanted to see me after the game that much… she was visibly upset, but…"

"But what?" prompted Hermione, before adding, "Put that bottle down, Ronald. Getting drunk does not solve all problems."

"I bet Harry would disagree to that," stated Ron, before filling both mugs up and nodding at him.

Taking the mug, he shrugged, "I'd actually go for some Firewhiskey right now. Butterbeer is way too soft for us now."

"Really? We could floo to Leaky. They're always open late."

"No," strained Hermione. "No. You are _not_ avoiding this. Now, we are going to discuss this whether I have to drag you up to Ron's old room and force it out of you or not."

"Blimey, I love you and everything, but you're scary," laughed Ron.

"Not to mention, vicious," added Harry, enjoying the familiarity of the situation. It was a wave of fresh air and momentarily ripped him from his torturing thoughts. It was much easier than to discuss his problems, but that didn't mean it wasn't going to happen. Hermione always got her way, despite Ron's and his attempts to stop it.

"This is a serious matter! You two shouldn't be laughing," said Hermione, exasperatedly. "You don't think you two will… end?... over this?"

"What?"

Immediately sobering up, Harry weighed an outcome that hadn't crossed his mind. Surely, that couldn't be farther from what was happening, right? After nearly three years of dating, everything wasn't breaking apart, was it? Could he really be thick enough to not notice something like that?

Ron noticed the panic flash across his face and cut in.

"Why would you even ask that? Ginny's been in love with him since before she knew him. That couldn't be it."

"I didn't say that it was. I was simply covering all possibilities." Hermione expressed annoyance, but kept a tight, soft smile. "I mean, she's been... um… _interested_ in your relationship, right?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I mean, I haven't noticed anything differently, except she's exhausted from practices and not feeling well. Everything else has been, well, very good. Like, really, really-"

"That's enough! Bloody hell! That's my sister you're talking about," interrupted Ron, as he harshly stared at Harry before returning to his drink.

Harry rolled his eyes, before adding, "Today has been the first day I've really noticed anything. The issue is that I don't think I'm the problem either. I… I think she's hiding something from me."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I think something has happened but I don't know what and I don't think she'll be telling me anytime soon. It's just this look on her face. She's not alright, but she keeps saying she is. It's complicated…" Harry took another sip. "Do you reckon she could feel guilty for that? She just seemed so nervous and scared- kept doing that hair thing."

Hermione hummed, as though calculating the options for the new information, while Ron pushed the rest of the bottle towards him.

"Hate to say this, but looks like you need the rest of that more than me. If Ginny doesn't want to tell you something, she's not going to. But hey, don't worry too much. She spills eventually… or well, usually."

"Ronald!"

Sighing, Harry nodded his thanks to his friend, before unscrewing the top and pouring more into his mug. "Maybe, I'll take you up on the Firewhiskey option, after all."

**7:43pm**

"Auntie Ginny! Look at me!" demanded Victoire with a high pitched giggle, as she twirled in a circle to make the skirt of her light pink dress poof out.

"Oh, that's wonderful, Tori." Ginny exclaimed, while assisting Dominique to stand on her small, wobbly legs.

The one-year-old merrily babbled through occasional slobber bubbles, as she watched her older sister in awe. Despite being so young, there was an evident bond between the girls that instantly warmed Ginny's heart. She wanted this and possibly could be halfway there in nine months, but now wasn't the time. Quidditch was the focus of her life. Babies could always come again later on. But what if none did as a result of what she might have done? And if one did, what would she tell him or her?

"You 'kay, Auntie Ginny?"

Victoire had stopped twirling and was kneeling on the floor in front of her. Her round, crystal blue eyes glittered with worry and confusion, as a frown began to puff out her small, lower lip.

Swallowing hard, Ginny nodded, before setting Dominique in her lap and softly kissing the top of her head.

Her skin was so soft and new still, despite being out of the womb for over a year now. There hadn't been enough time to cause any bruises or scares. Actually, if she had been Harry, she'd already have a scar and a legacy attached to her young name. Bill and Fleur would be gone. Family would forever be a thought of the past.

At Victoire's age, Harry would've been mostly neglected, slightly behind in development, and weary of most people. Dudley would've already fought a couple times with him, so there'd be bruising. Perhaps, Vernon and Petunia had already lied to him about his parent's death. She wasn't sure. Even after all this time, the majority of his life outside of the Wizarding World remained a dark, cloudy mystery. She didn't blame him. She wouldn't want to relive it either. One thing she did know was that he'd make sure his children never witnessed that pain. They'd never in their entire lives if he had any power over it.

"Mummy?"

Ginny blinked, and then noticed Victoire was standing midway between Fleur and her. Concern was all over her typically cheerful face. She gave a weak smile, while trying to shake the thoughts from her mind. But her hand had slipped between Dominique and on to her stomach, and fear rushed through her. She quickly removed it.

_Not yet_. She told herself. _I can't become connected just yet_.

"Come 'ere, mon cherie," spoke Fleur, calling her eldest daughter over. "Ella von bien, okay? Sh, it's okay."

The toddler climbed into her lap and leaned against her torso. Her worried eyes never left Ginny. The girl had such a large heart that it was admirable.

"You sure, Mummy?"

"Yes. I promise." Fleur kissed her hairline, before nodding in the direction of some toys on the floor. "Now, 'ow 'bout you and Dominique go play? Oui?"

Narrowing her eyes, Victoire debated, before slowly slipping onto the floor and ushering a crawling Dominique towards some toys.

"No, over 'ere Domi! C'mon." Victoire bossed.

_Teddy should've been here_, thought Ginny, before succumbing to guilt. She knew how much he adored being around Victoire and he was probably only playing with Andromeda right now. How could she not invite him? Then again, she only knew that she was coming until moments before. But Harry knew. _How could he not invite his own godson?_

Glaring in the direction of the kitchen, he was currently downing a bottle of Butterbeer with her brother. Disgust ran through her and she rolled her eyes. _Of course, he didn't. Then, he couldn't end the night face down in the toilet. _She wanted to slap him. How could he be so selfish? And to imagine, the two could have their own child next winter. Instantly, she felt weak and pale.

"I believe Tori might've been on to something," mumbled Audrey, as she came over to rock a fussing Molly II and caught Ginny's eye.

She slouched farther on the floor hoping it'd be enough to show that she didn't want the attention brought to her, especially with Fleur. The woman might've given her two wonderful nieces, but a fragment of the old dislike remained. Bill was happy and she helped a lot during the war, still though, personalities would always clash.

"'er name iz Victoire," corrected Fleur, grimacing at the family nickname. "But oui, zee iz très smart."

The young mother lovingly glanced at her two daughters, before redirecting her attention straight to Ginny. She internally groaned.

"'Ow are you?"

"I'm fine," replied Ginny, a little shortly, but at least she kept an easy grin. "Just haven't been feeling the best. A couple girls from the team have been coming down with something and I'm afraid I've might have it."

"Oh no, but don't you have the big match against Puddlemere next week?" Audrey asked, while readjusting Molly in her arms.

"Um, yeah, we do actually. I'm sorry, I didn't realize you followed Quidditch," replied Ginny, slightly shocked; in her defense, Audrey was married to Percy, who was never a giant fan of the sport.

She softly laughed, while untangling some of her hair from Molly's tiny fist. "I don't normally, actually, but Percy has been keeping a good eye on your team this year. He felt horrible last year when he didn't realize the Harpies were in the qualifying rounds of the World Cup. He gets a little caught up."

"Well, with good excuse for last summer." Ginny replied, pleased to know they cared. "You had a baby."

Smiling, Audrey gently brushed the sides of her daughter's face. A special love poured from every part of the new mother, despite Molly's tiny fingers once more tugging at the couple strains of brown hair that fell over her shoulder. It was the kind that sparkled in every part of her soft, hazel eyes and kept her lips constantly pulled upwards. Fleur always looked similar at Victoire and Dominique.

Maybe, a daughter was growing within Ginny and she'd have the same bond with her own. Then again, what if it was a boy?

Shaking her head, a twinge of nausea unsettled her stomach. To counteract it, she sat straighter and tried to keep the sickness from her face. Any symptoms and all the mothers would know, including her own, and it was the last thing she needed. Her heart sunk at the thought of her mother finding out the option she was considering. Then again, it was her body, her future, and her life, and she could decide whatever she wanted, especially if Harry never found out. But could she live with herself if he didn't?

"Zat look! You izn't okay, are you?" accused Fleur, narrowing her eyes at her. Audrey's eyes followed.

"I'm fine. I swear," nonchalantly commented Ginny, trying to keep the panic from wetting her burning eyes.

Even after everything she was feeling, she wanted to pretend this situation never happened. _How horrible of a person am I? _The thought was pushed to the back of her mind. She'd think of it another time. Yes. That was always her solution.

"You do look pale. What're your symptoms? There's a nasty flu spreading around and Pepper-Up Potion hasn't been helping many. It'd probably knock you from Quidditch for at least a week from what St. Mungo's has seen," sputtered Audrey, a deep worry and longing appeared on her face.

It was no secret that she missed working full-time as a Healer, but she stood with her original decision to stay at home with Molly. There were discussions about her returning to the field after a couple years, but Ginny didn't know if she should wait any longer. The vacancy was apparent in her eyes, as she was forced to trade her passion for her daughter. Both Audrey and Percy felt that being around the sick all day and then their daughter put her too far at risk for severe illnesses, especially since Audrey typically worked the more contagious cases. Then again, it made her immune system almost as strong as steal. The exposure could do the same for their daughter, but was the risk worth taking?

What if Harry wanted her to trade Quidditch for their baby? Plenty of mothers continued on after a season of maternity leave, but different situations fit different families. She would suggest that Harry quit his job, but solving crimes and defending the community was who he was. Then again, Quidditch was part of who she was. Yes, one saved people and the other was a sport, but how can someone deny such a large part of themselves, especially so soon after fully achieving it? After all, she had only been starting chaser for two and a half years now, since Alejandra Diaz found out she was pregnant. The twenty-five-year-old returned to the team the following season, but no matter how much effort she put in, she could never regain her starter title back. Ginny wasn't sure if she wanted to risk losing it, as well.

"Ginny?" asked Audrey, as more concern grew on both mothers' faces.

"Hm, sorry. I keep getting light headed, and it probably doesn't help that I feel completely exhausted." She feigned a yawn, despite her muscles actually aching and her mind tiring. "And my stomach has been an absolute mess."

"Oui, I noticed you didn't eet much. I thought, maybe, Victoire was botzered you. I forgot to zay pardon for 'er," commented Fleur, sending an apologetic smile towards her, and then at Victoire.

Her eyes widened at the sight of her three-year-old attempting to assist Dominique climb the steps and her hand flew over her heart.

"Non! Non! Mon Cherie!. Dominique iz too petit!" She shot up from the couch and towards her young daughters with a look of fright that only mothers know.

Once more, Ginny found herself not wanting to experience it.

Audrey continued watching, while shushing Molly back to sleep, until Dominique was safe in Fleur's arms and Victoire was being scolded in a mixture of English and French.

"Poor Molly has had terrible time sleeping recently, even had a fever the other day." Audrey muttered, glancing down at her daughter. "We thought, maybe, one of my old coworkers gave her the flu, when she stopped to visit the other day. Luckily, it turned out only to be her one-year-old molars surfacing. In a couple of days, it'll all be okay. Can you believe it, though?" She smiled over at Ginny. "She's only nine months. In a couple more, she'll be starting to take steps on her own, just like Dominique. It's all so surreal."

Placing a hand on her stomach, Ginny smiled.

"You love being a mum, don't you?"

"I would never dream of any other life," responded Audrey, before nodding in Fleur's direction, as Victoire started to throw herself on the ground in a tantrum.

The screams that resulted felt as though they were bursting Ginny's ear drums, and she could see Harry, Ron, and Hermione peak their heads from the kitchen to see what happened. Molly began to stir beneath her blanket, once more, and Audrey began to rock at a steadier pace.

"Thank Merlin that she can sleep through anything. She'll fidget, but always goes right to sleep, or well for me, at least." A victorious smirk slipped on to her face, before she relaxed deeper into the chair.

"Does she not for Percy?" Ginny's eyebrows furrowed together, as she adjusted her position some. Normally, she never had problems with sitting on the floor, but for some reason her lower back was not handling it well.

Audrey quietly chuckled. "Oh, you should see it. She'll just wail and wail until I take her. It's the main reason I decided not to return to work. No one seems to comfort her but me." She yawned, before adding, "Does that make me exhausted because of constantly waking to check on her? Oh, yes. But I don't mind it. I honestly really don't mind messing work either. The feeling of her soft breaths against my skin and her steady heartbeat is enough of a reward for me. Don't even get me started on that bright smile of her's every time she sees me come into the nursery. She is the greatest gift anyone could've ever given me."

"That's… That's so sweet," replied Ginny, but she wasn't sure if Audrey could hear the faint whisper and she wasn't sure Audrey exactly cared for her response. Her daughter was currently her entire world, and that amazed the young Quidditch player, but something inside her felt very wrong.

Her throat constricted, as it felt as though a lump was swelling in the middle of it. Her breathing strained, as her heartbeat sped to the tempo of the growing pounding in her head. Why hadn't Victoire quit crying yet? Even Bill was trying to console her, but she continued kicking the ground. Dominique was beginning to whine, as well. Yet Molly continued sleeping, and Audrey continued rocking, despite being fully aware that Molly would one day cause the scene Victoire currently was.

And that didn't overwhelm her? _How?_ Ginny panicked, keeping her eyes open to try and stop the tears burning at the edges. Silently, she aggressively ran her hand through her hair and dusted the loose strains on to the ground. She didn't want this to happen in her life, not yet, anyway. But it was, and she wasn't sure she didn't want it enough to completely stop it, either.

She knew nothing and had only until the end of July to figure things out. It would've been June, at her three month mark, but July was their month off. Then, she would not legally be allowed to play for the safety for her and the baby, despite any possible future decisions surrounding the situation. And if she couldn't play Quidditch anyway, then what was stopping her from having the baby? A married status would've been ideal, but was never a necessary component. They both knew what they wanted, but were currently focusing on their careers first. After all, even after everything they lived through, they were still young. But they were fortunate to have money, but they did lack a family sized flat, and-

_Is Quidditch the only reason?_ The realization exploded within her and her pulse rapidly quickened. The room was softly swaying. _Without it, I'd keep it. S_he tried to focus on Audrey, who was asking her something. However, there was no sound, just the flapping movement of her was piercing crying in the distance, but it no longer belonged to Victoire. _I want it. _It belonged to-

_No, it doesn't. _She argued, as everything slowly became a blur. No matter how many times she tried to stop it, the thought circled her mind. It appeared in all different voices, all different pitches, and all different fonts, until she wasn't positive there was any more space in there. Then, it appeared even more.

_Is Quidditch enough to give it up?_

**8:33pm**

"I'm going back to my flat, Harry." The words felt dry in her mouth, but it required too much concentration to keep her entire body from shaking to care. The question kept pounding and pounding, as though trying to shatter all of her sanity. She needed to get out of there without anyone else, especially Harry.

"Wait, what?"

He spun and jumped from his chair so quickly he almost fell over. Ron dropped the mug he was holding, as George stopped his conversation with their mother, who appeared almost as dazed as Harry did. Anxiously, Hermione tugged at Harry's sleeve and whispered, "I thought you said everything was okay?" But the words were nothing in Ginny's mind. They could think what they wanted; she just needed to run.

"I just… I have this bloody headache and Victoire's yelling didn't help and do I need a bloody reason to want to leave?" She snapped, walking closer to the fireplace to floo. She had heard that it was safer for the baby- wait, when did she care what was safer? Shaking the thought, she called over her shoulder. "Mum, dinner was great. I'll try and be around sometime, I dunno, soon."

Her mother never replied, or she didn't absorb any of it. The burning in her eyes was not letting up and she didn't know how much longer she could keep from giving in. She was absolutely pathetic at concealing the mess she was feeling. It was bound to happen eventually.

Gritting her teeth at the annoyance, she cut sharply towards the floo powder, but Harry grabbed her arm and gently turned her around. Bewilderment seeped through the pores on his face, along with traces of anger and irritation. He was a gentle soul, especially since the Horacux was removed, but everyone had their limits. She knew he was approaching his, and suddenly she was furious with him.

Yanking her arm from his grip, she hissed, "Don't touch me. I'm leaving. And don't bloody check up on me."

"Seriously, Ginny, what's wrong?" demanded Harry, as worry coated his voice and he swiftly took a hold of her arm again; she tried to get away once more, but his grip was stronger this time. It infuriated her more to know he had the advantage at this point.

"Nothing. I'm fantastic. Can I go now?" She spoke shortly, glaring over his shoulder where Bill, Fleur, and Percy stuck their heads in the doorway.

"No. You're not making any bloody sense," shouted Harry, and she knew she broke past his limit leaving shattered glass in the wake. He noticed, as well, because he quickly took a breath and lowered his voice to a whisper. "Look, can we please go outside and talk about what's going on?"

"Daddy, what's wrong with Auntie Ginny?" Victoire's muffled question broke through the momentary silence and Ginny completely lost it.

"You want to know what's wrong?" She prompted, as fire danced in her core waiting to be unleashed upon its victim. "Do you?"

"Well, obviously! I've been asking all evening!"

Squaring her shoulders, her eyes narrowed in on his face and a wave crashed upon her. The entire day replayed in botched memories prompting her to push farther and slice deeper. The words were coated in gasoline and leaked into the fire.

"Why the hell did you not invite Teddy to the bloody dinner? You knew about the bloody event a head of time. Andromeda would've said yes. He would've loved it! Instead, he missed out on it. In fact, I bet you didn't even consider it. You were too focused on getting drunk with my bloody brothers, you selfish, selfish prat!"

Suddenly, the anger vanished and Ginny felt better, however the aching exhaustion lingered and she considered sleeping for three days. The relief was enough to forget about the dead silence of the room, the utter shock and fury written on Harry's face, as well as the annoying, persistent thought. All in all, she truly felt alright to the point that her muscles even relaxed.

"What?"

The word finally stumbled out of Harry's mouth and everything came flying back, except the previous anger. Instead, it was replaced by a nagging guilt building within. She needed to successfully flee before it could swell and have her sobbing for forgiveness on her knees. She refused to do that, yet. This overall situation wasn't over.

"You heard me." She stated, before pulling from him and grabbing a fistful of floo powder.

**8:37pm**

The green flames dimmed and Harry considered going after her, to say the words poisoning his mind. But what was the point? He knew she immediately locked her fireplace and the Holyhead Harpies blocked all apparition points in a kilometer distance to the training field and any of the players' flats.

He could always run the distance, but then he'd be too mentally and psychically worn out to fight. Work came early in the morning, and he wasn't even sure that this could be mended overnight. They'd never experienced anything quite like this, especially never to this volume. That fact terrified him. What had he missed to cause this reaction? His mind continued spinning to figure it out, but it kept ending the same: _I didn't do anything._ That terrified him even more, for if it wasn't him, what caused it?

* * *

**A/N: So, this chapter ended up longer than I imagined, but I'm really pleased with the result. The next is scheduled to be about the same length, perhaps a little smaller. The progression and update process for this story is the focus on my biography section on my profile, therefore if you are curious about future updates you can look at that. Thank you for your patience, kind support and words, criticism, and active responses. I truly adore it!**


	3. Chapter 2: 7 Weeks

**9 May 1998**

**4:15pm**

"Harry?"

Her voice was delicate, slowly fading into the breeze. She hesitated, unsure what else to say. The world smelled crisp and new, as it did after the rain spent weeks cascading from the gray clouds; perhaps, it was the world's attempt at mourning the lives that would never be and the ones that were finished. Through burial after burial, the weather remained constant, but now, barely an hour after the final one, the sun began to replace the pain that had been. The war was over; tomorrow would be for the survivors.

"I'm fine."

His response was defensive, rising at the edges. Every sign said to turn around and forget the reason she came, but she couldn't abandon him. Not like this. He was cradled on the soggy ground and oblivious to the mud seeping into his clothes. She couldn't see his eyes, but knew they absently stared at the granite pieces. The image caused the warnings to vanish. She had to push on, despite yearning to collapse on the ground beside him. As her father had told her earlier, grieving relied on alternating which person chose to be strong for short time periods. For now, it appeared to be her.

"I didn't ask if you were." She replied, softly but defiantly, before kneeling on the wet ground.

He grumbled a response, and shuffled over some. However, the invitation did not guarantee progress. His stubbornness could out live her patience, or so, she concluded upon the arrival of Ron and Hermione at the cottage. They didn't speak of the information exchanged, but that he would not be returning soon. She asked for more, but their lips remained sealed. Even after everything, she'd linger on the outside. It hurt her, but she tried to respect the reasons behind it. She could only hope that someday it would be different.

Cringing from the thoughts swarming in the silence, she refocused her attention. Gently, her fingers caressed the carved names on the stone:

.

_In Loving Memory of_

_Remus Lupin and Nymphadora "Tonks" Lupin_

_._

_10 March 1960- 2 May 1998 . 24 February 1973- 2 May 1998_

_._

"_Fear is the greatest weakness,_

_and love is the greatest power."_

_._

"I saw him- Remus."

He stared at her with heavy and hard eyes. She furrowed her eyebrows and her hand froze over the dates. Everyone had seen him when the Order marched into Battle.

"I did, too. When he first-"

"No," interrupted Harry, and then turned back to the graves. "I mean _after_. When I turned myself in."

"What?" Her voice hitched, while she attempted to get a better view of his face. However, he kept it hidden. "How?"

"I didn't tell Hermione or Ron." Harry paused, before continuing. "I just, I just saw him with my parents and Sirius. They were with me."

"I don't understand."

She was lost, but a part of her knew she'd always be. Something happened in the forest and she'd probably never completely know the story. It was how the system functioned. Ron and Hermione knew parts of it, because he spoke with them directly after the victory. However, hardly a word was mumbled to anyone else, until now.

Harry sighed, and his head hung some. Silence drifted between them, and for the first time, she understood what was wrong. Delicately, she rested a hand upon his forearm and scooted closer. The space was hazardous, because this needed to be a quiet conversation. Anything else and he might've shied away.

"It's okay. You don't have to explain it all." She took a breath and forced out the compromise. She wished that it didn't need to be addressed and that Harry would finally explain every question she harbored all these years. But the system had always worked. At least she got this much information. "Just, tell me, what did they do?"

"Um, well, they spoke with me. It wasn't long or lengthy, but-" He breathed deeply. "It was enough, and they promised to stay with me."

She smiled softly, as he relaxed with the memory. As disturbed as it might have been, it undeniably brought forth a peace that never existed before.

"Were they happy?"

"Yeah, I think they were or as much as one can be then. You should've seen them, though- Sirius and Remus, I mean. It was like they were years younger, but I could recognize them," said Harry, glancing up to meet her smile. "It was incredible."

"Sounds like it," replied Ginny, lightly squeezing his arm. "What about your parents?"

He paused, recalling the memory. It was taking longer than expected, and questions began burning the tip of her tongue. They fought when she swallowed them down. It hurt to deny them, but releasing them would only activate his walls. Then, she'd never get to know anything.

Finally, he spoke:

"My parents? It was weird. They were proud of me, and I had never been able to feel that before. I mean, people always told me they were, but how could they know? They didn't. But I do, and they are."

It was Ginny's turn to be silent, as the graveness of his reality rang through her. However this happened, it did, and it allowed him to finally have some closure over almost everything in the past. Slight jealousy mixed into her veins. Her family and she would never get the chance to see Fred again. Their closure was in knowing his death wasn't in vein.

"That's great, Harry. It really is."

The words came out, and it was the truth, yet her mind slowly began questioning that. Emotions were becoming more difficult to understand the more life went on, especially now. They were split down the middle and she had to consciously decide between them. It was exhausting and torturous. She couldn't handle it, yet she couldn't pretend they didn't exist either. Thus, they were normally released as anger.

"You alright?" He asked.

She noticed his hand on her arm; stiffly, she nodded. "Yeah. I'm thinking is all. Y'know, about everything?"

"Oh," mumbled Harry, as his head dropped once more. The tension slowly returned, and he stiffened into a hunch. "Can I tell you something else?"

It was all it took to bring her back, for she could never deny the moment that had happened.

"Of course. Anything."

"Okay, so," began Harry, hastily. "When I saw Remus, for the first time, it dawned on me that because of me, his son now has no one. They're gone. He'll never get to say goodbye. They won't even see his first birthday. He's alone, and, well, Remus s-said that-"

Something broke inside. He cowered away, once again desperately hiding his face. He was determined to cage his tears again. It annoyed Ginny, but she had enough brothers to expect it. She worked hard to hide her own emotions because of their teasing. But she couldn't allow Harry to pull away now. Too much had happened to remain mute. So, she chose to disregard the crying. As much as she yearned to hug him, her stance remained the same.

"And he said?" She prompted again; the tale wanted to be told, or Harry wouldn't have started, so it needed to be finished. It amazed her how he could carry around heavy weights and then treated them like feathers.

"Well, he said that he regrets not being a part of his life, b-but people will explain what he and Tonks- well, what they died for. He hopes he'll understand and he will, but never completely. He'll always wonder why t-them." He whispered between sniffles, and Ginny finally understood what this was.

"Harry." She stated slowly. "Harry, look at me."

He reluctantly glanced at her. "I know what you're going to say, so don't. If I wanted to hear what I'm doing wrong, I would've told Hermione."

"You're a prat. A noble but daft and thick prat." Ginny was taken aback. "There's too much to be grieved, but this, a life, shouldn't be."

"I lived it, Ginny. I know what he has to look forward to. You don't. You don't get to say anything." Harry snapped.

He was blocking out the world like he had two years ago. Ginny resisted gripping her wand. Hexes and Jinxes didn't always solve everything.

She laughed in frustration. "You don't see it, do you? Because that was _your_ life, not _his_. His is only beginning. It's unknown with no damned prophecy attached. He's going to be one of the very first people to live in a world that so many people fought for. And I'm not going to mourn that. And you shouldn't either. It's not who you are."

"Who am I, then?" He responded, reverting to defense. "Humor me."

More confidently, she squared up to his gaze and grinned. "You, Harry Potter, are someone who can ensure that baby will never feel the way you did. You can ensure he knows that someone actually understands. Mostly, you will be there." _Even though no one was there for you, _she completed in thought. "And that will make all the difference."

Once more, silence floated upon them, as the unsaid taunted. Ginny knew that he disliked the cards handed to him, but he never complained. It was how he'd influence little Edward Remus Lupin. The lessons his wisdom taught would demonstrate how to accept and enjoy an uncontrollable life, while never forgetting one's losses. It was something Harry could teach the entire Wizarding World, and for the first time, what caused her heart to speed up was not a simple schoolgirl crush. She desired to be with him, to give him the future he never dared to dream of. She wanted to give him love, shelter, and family. It frightened her to know one could feel so much.

"I'm his godfather. Did you know that?" asked Harry, softly. "Remus and Tonks… they asked me."

"Yeah, I did. Mrs. Tonks told everyone at the cottage." She smiled, recalling the proud middle-age woman, despite stricken with grief, showcasing her godson. It was only another example of how people with the most pain always found ways to hold on to happiness. "She says she stands by her daughter's decision."

He nodded, and she could tell he was beginning to drift off somewhere else again. The exact location was hard to place, but his eyes darkened and his jaw locked in place. "Do you think they knew? When Remus asked me? Do you think they knew?"

The worst part was that it was a valid question. Personally, Ginny had spent to majority of the year pondering how it could end. She knew the ending was close and a battle was brewing. She had plenty of scars to account for her involvement and the escalation of the horrors at Hogwarts. With every run in with the Carrows, she realized farther that she or someone close to her wouldn't live to see the outcome. Therefore, it only made sense that Remus and Tonks had done the same. The look on his face said he knew that as well, so she carefully rephrased her thoughts.

"I think that they were covering all grounds, especially because of her father's death." She despised how much the word was spoken and heard now. "I think they knew what their chances were, yet they couldn't stand by and watch. So, they made sure if it happened, Teddy was in good hands. And he is."

"I guess." He continued turning the scenario in his head; he'd be doing it five years from then, as well. "So, is she really showing him off?"

"Absolutely. He's everything she has left. An absolutely adorable baby. Mum is going nuts. It's nice to see her smiling like that again."

Harry shifted, glancing between the gravestone and Ginny. "Maybe you can come with as I officially meet him?"

Meeting his gaze, she smiled.

**19 May 2003 (7 weeks)**

**11:30am **

Ginny smiled, recalling the memory in its hazy bliss. It was the moment their relationship had changed, even though she didn't know for sure then. The moment was always the reason they took it slow, ensuring both were healed, mentally and emotionally, from the horror they had witnessed. They found solace together, outside of a relationship. During that delicate time, her emotions swelled, as Harry introduced her to his true self, not the fabrication her young, teenage mind created. No. She matured, and he could choose his own destiny for once. It would've been wrong to cage themselves in a relationship, instead of adjusting to life.

Oddly, enough, it had been different for Ron and Hermione. Pieces of exactly what happened were never released, except that something remarkable occurred during the heighten events of battle. Despite Hermione's logical approach to recollect themselves, she always found her way to Ron's room in the haunting hours of the night. One night, when Ginny got up to get water, Harry explained that it was from nightmares. Of what, exactly, Ginny never actually found out. Even now, she had to respect that she would never know everything, not of Hermione, her brother, or boyfriend. She'd always be left behind, remembering crying as all of them took off in the Hogwarts Express and she had to wait.

"Weasley! You have ten seconds or Diaz will be my starting chaser," shouted Gwenog Jones, somewhere off in the distance.

However, it kicked the young redhead in gear. The rest of her team stood on the ground, while she floated from above.

Leaning forward, she dove sharply, while trying to brush the memories and thoughts away. They plagued her, though, fueling her seemingly endless guilt. Her stomach knotted and if this morning hadn't miraculously been better than all the others, she would've needed to throw up. Fortunately, even the thing growing inside her knew illnesses and Quidditch did not go nicely together.

As she landed on the ground, the small chattering between teammates fell silent, and Gwenog Jones turned sharply towards Ginny. The older woman glared and frowned. Internally, Ginny wanted to cower backwards and apologize, as she despised the look of disappointment in her captain's, as well as her childhood idol's, eyes. She mentally cursed herself, as well, for the rookie mistake of allowing outside situations to affect her playing ability. Quidditch was her now; it was all that mattered.

But, for the first time, Ginny felt as though it wasn't. Even though Quidditch was her career and passion, it resided at only that: a hobby she got paid to do. It would never take away the words she fired at Harry, how she questioned his love for Teddy, and her vivid knowledge that he'd risk anything for the child. It had been that way since Harry officially met the little guy, and for her to attack his godfather insecurities-

_I'm a bloody horrible person_.

"Glad you could join us, Weasley. Any thought you wish to share?" questioned Gwenog, rhetorically.

Ginny shook her head. "I'm fine."

"Good." Gwenog paused, narrowing her eyes for a moment before clapping her hands. "Now, as I was saying. We may have won that game last week, but we were slow. That game could've easily gone either way and I'm not satisfied with that. I'll not be the captain of a team that gets winded and sloppy. Understood?"

The team nodded.

"Alright, then start running laps. And no cutting corners this time, Quinn and Brunette. I've got plenty of people dying to be on this team. Remember, each one of you is replaceable," ordered Gwenog. "Morgan led the run. I want to speak to Weasley before I'll join in."

Valmai shared a look with Ginny, who felt the tips of her ears turn red and shrugged. She had been distracted this practice, but she didn't think that it had been so bad that she deserved one of Gwenog's legendary private scoldings. She had made sure to stay on the captain's good side and worked past her limits every day. Surely, one mess up could be excused.

However, as the team began following Valmai around the field and Gwenog crossed her arms over her chest and sternly stared at her, Ginny felt less sure of herself. It reminded her of being a student at Hogwarts again being reprimanded for bad behavior. Morning sickness decided that it was the perfect moment to attack. She swallowed hard; she refused to throw up in front of Gwenog.

"How far along are you?"

Ginny whitened, making sure she heard correctly. "I don't know what you mean?"

"Damn it, Weasley. I'm not playing with you. I've played Quidditch with enough girls to know when someone gets knocked up. You've been slow, sickly, and moody these past few days. Now, how far along are you?" Gwenog demanded, cautiously eyeing the rest of the team's distance to the duo.

Ginny defiantly crossed her arms over her chest. "It doesn't matter. I don't even know what I'm doing about it." She had been caught and she wasn't sure how she felt. A part of her soared with relief, while the other realized that her situation wasn't going away. It would continue growing, literally, until the entire Wizarding World would know about it. Unless she got rid of it. The latter was denial. Her mind had been made up since the incident at the Burrow. She just wasn't ready to give it up. She was terrified.

Gwenog sighed. "What you decide to do doesn't concern me, but what does is the fact that no witch past the first trimester of her pregnancy is allowed to fly in an official game or partake in official practice. I've said it to Diaz and every other member. I've seen what a nasty blugger to the pregnant stomach can do to a pregnancy and my friend and I won't see it again."

Ginny knew the instance that Gwenog referred to. It was during the 1987 match between the Holyhead Harpies and the Chudley Cannons. One of the Harpies hadn't informed the captain of her pregnancy and received a blugger to the stomach midway through the match. The blow had instantly resulted in a miscarriage, as well as a ruptured organ. The player, Emily Rivers, died of internal bleeding. Ginny only vaguely recalled Bill and Charlie discussing it. It was Gwenog's first season on the team.

Ginny softened and placed a hand on her stomach. "Almost two months, I think."

"You think?" Gwenog prompted, thinking up future strategies without the redhead involved.

"I haven't exactly gone to a Healer yet," replied Ginny, sheepishly. She braced herself for Gwenog's response. It had been made clear how the caption felt about the situation and the idea of flying while pregnant. Personally, Ginny felt that each woman should be able to decide when it was the right time to step away for them. Yet, she, also, knew that flying while pregnant was outrageously dangerous for a multitude of reasons.

Gwenog glanced past Ginny at the group of girls making their way back towards the duo. Diaz was bunched in the middle of the group. Weasley was faster, but Diaz had remarkable aim and passing skills. "You're benched for tomorrow. Diaz will be starting until I get an all clear from a Healer. I like you Weasley. You're talented. But I'm not going to be responsible for anything possible to go wrong. Plus, I can't have my starters puking on our opponents and daydreaming."

"You can't do that," protested Ginny, despite an odd weight being lifted off of her shoulders. She ignored that feeling, however, and focused on the anger. "You can't bench me because I might be, maybe, highly undoubtfully three months pregnant."

Gwenog shook her head. "No. I'm benching you, because you've been throwing up between drills in practice all week, lost three seconds of your speed, and not focusing on your complete health." She took a breath and gave a soft smile. "Look, Ginny, I'm not the enemy here, but as captain, I'm not going to risk one of my players' health or safety for a game. Believe it or not, there's more than just Quidditch."

The words echoed in Ginny's head- words that she never would have imagined coming from Gwenog Jones. But they did and confirmed exactly what Ginny had been thinking recently. And it didn't mean that she'd be parting for Quidditch for forever. She could always return. The next morning, Diaz would finally reclaim her position. It was all more possible than Ginny had been allowing herself to believe.

Accepting defeat, she nodded and backed off from her captain. She heard the rest of the team coming closer and her eyes widened in panic. Quickly, she grabbed a hold of Gwenog's arm and whispered. "This was in confidence, right? Harry doesn't know."

Gwenog laughed. "Why the hell would I spin this publicity on to my team for any bloody reason? Now, I've got a game to win tomorrow and you need to hit the showers."

Ginny nodded, recognizing her early dismissal from practice. She wondered what excuse Gwenog would give the team, if she addressed her absence at all. The oddest part was knowing that the team would go on without her, just as it has always done. She wondered if Gwenog thought the same, as the season came to a closure.

"If it makes you feel any better, Weasley, I hope you've got those dates right. I want all my team right here for that last game."

_I hope so too_, thought Ginny. _I hope so too_.

**12:o5pm**

Andromeda casted a charm and the dishes began to wash themselves. She sat across the table from Harry and Teddy, as the young boy devoured a couple biscuits. Occasionally, he'd mumbled about the events of his day, which both of the adults already knew about but neither wanted to interrupt his excitement. He sported black hair, yet kept the very eyes he was born with. As he gained more control over his ability, it was the one part of him that Teddy never changed- not since Harry had told him that he had his father's eyes.

To say that Andromeda was pleased with the bond between godson and godfather was an underestimate. Ever since Harry finally came to meet Teddy after the week of funerals, he had made a positive effort to support the child. He didn't only owe it to Tonks and Remus, but to Teddy as well. It took over a year before guilt didn't visit along with Harry. The visits had become more frequent than once a week after that, as well.

In fact, she was proud to have gotten the chance to meet and know Harry. It wasn't everyday a seventeen-year-old, who defeated the darkest wizard of all time, stumbled through one's floo network and vowed to be involved in a month old baby's life. Most boys would've turned at the thought of the newfound responsibilities. But responsibilities weren't new for Harry. Andromeda knew from the beginning that he was not like other boys. He had seen and witnessed more than most one hundred year old men. She trusted her daughter and Remus's decision.

Perhaps, that was why she found it difficult to discuss the letter in her hands with him. It might've been why she had delayed the conversation as long as she had. The letters had been exchanged for nine months, but she didn't want to finalize her most recent reply without Harry's consent. He was as much a part of Teddy's life as she was; he deserved a say in such matters. Especially since it involved Narcissa.

"You alright, Grammy?" Teddy asked between bites. "You look sad again." He whinced and gazed down at the biscuit in his hands. "You can have my biscuit? Don't be sad."

Andromeda smiled at the offering. "No, love, you eat it. I'm not sad. I promise."

"It's okay to be sad, though. Harry told me that," beamed Teddy, proudly staring up at his godfather.

"He's right, you know?" Harry confirmed, resulting in Teddy's victorious giggles. Sometimes all it took to make the child happy was to acknowledge that he was correct. Plus, Harry never received such encouragement; Teddy would never be without.

Andromeda smiled thinly. "I know its okay, but thank you for reminding me, love." She paused and clutched the letter in her hands. She looked momentarily at Harry. "However, Teddy, you could really help me if you went and cleaned up some of your toys in the den while I talk to Harry about something."

Rolling his eyes, the young boy sent her a look and huffed. "I'm not four anymore, Grammy. I know you just want me to leave the room." He crossed his arms over his chest and turned to Harry. "Do I have to go?"

"I'm sorry, mate, but if your grandmother wants you to clean up your toys, well, you've got to clean up your toys," reinforced Harry, giving him a pat on the back.

Teddy groaned, collected the last of his biscuits, and flopped off the chair. "Fine. I'll go. But I'm not cleaning."

"That boy, I swear, gets more defiant every day." Andromeda shook her head. "That eye roll. It could've given Nymphadora a run for her money back in the day." The familiar mistiness of memory clouded her face. "She was such a strong willed girl, yet so caring and loving. She was so much like her father."

"And Teddy's so much like her," said Harry, softly. "And Remus. He's a really good blend of the two, yet entirely his own."

Andromeda nodded and ran her fingers over the edges of the letter. Taking a breath, she placed the envelope in front of him. "I've wanted to talk to you about this."

Harry furrowed his brow and took the envelope from the table. Andromeda's name was delicately sprawled across the front in dark ink. He flipped open the already opened flap and paused.

"Go ahead, Harry. It'd be easier if you went ahead and read it," encouraged Andromeda, nervously picking at the table cloth.

He nodded, unsure exactly what would be read inside. The handwriting on the front was foreign to him, but he had to involve Teddy or him in some shape or form. Why else would he be invited to read her private mail? He swallowed hard and thought the worst: was someone threatening Andromeda and Teddy because of him? Teddy was one of the top two in harm if someone wanted to retaliate against him. There were plenty of Death Eaters, or family of Death Eaters, who yearned to. That's why he swore he'd never marry or have a settled family until the threats were gone. It was all in grained in the plan.

Slowly, he unfolded the letter.

_Andromeda,_

_These last few months have meant the world to me. Our weekly exchange of letters has brightened my world for the first time in longer than I care to admit. Every day, I wonder why I ever allowed myself to follow in the footsteps of our family. But we weren't always this dysfunctional, we were? I mean, mother and father were always peculiar and controlling in our upbringing, as well as the family name to live up to, but at some point, we were okay. Were we not? _

_I recall faintly one evening after Bella headed off to her first year. You and I lay in your bed and thought about the future- where we would end up. You told me, even then, that it was our job to follow our hearts. Bella and you never agreed on that. She believed that we must rise to meet our family's obligations. I'm still not entirely sure what that was. I was never informed fully on issues, and when I finally was, I found myself buried too deep to escape. _

_Please note that I am not strolling down memory lane lightly, nor am I proud of my actions. But I needed to protect my family. Perhaps, it was wrong, but it's what I thought was best. I never meant for us to drift apart as we did, but you, also, chose your own path. But that is a conversation and argument that I do not wish to be a part of- not anymore. The past cannot be changed, but we have a future. _

_That is why I am writing this letter. I want to start a new with you. There has been so much loss, so much pain, and I do not know where to start. Draco and Lucius still do not know I am contacting you, but I plan to tell them one day. But until then, I'd love it if I could meet you and to be introduced to the grandson that you've written about. _

Harry looked up. He narrowed his eyes and gritted his teeth. Anger and frustration from the past welled inside him as though it had never left. His hands shook slightly, so he placed the letter on the table and stared blankly at Andromeda. "You've been writing Narcissa?"

Andromeda flinched. There was betrayal in his voice. She feebly nodded. "Since last summer. I didn't read the letters at first, but they kept coming. She's still my baby sister."

Harry shook his head, mauling over the new information. He didn't want to read anymore of the letter, but knew there was a reason Andromeda showed him this one. Narcissa sounded truly remorseful, but he already gave her the amount of mercy he could. He voted for Draco and her to live a free life. He allowed them a second chance at life. But never had he thought that would bring him to here.

"She wasn't one of them, you know. She's being honest. No one ever told her anything," said Andromeda, softly.

"But she married one and allowed her son to join them. There is evidence that she knew of Voldemort's plans, sat in on the meetings, and said nothing when Draco was ordered to kill Professor Dumbledore," replied Harry. "She might not have been one of them, but she supported them."

"Our family is hard to explain. It was something that you will never understand," responded Andromeda, harsher than intended. She understood and felt the same hatred Harry did for Narcissa, but her heart wanted to believe that her sister could be changed. Throughout everything, maybe, her poisoned thoughts had changed.

However, the forceful nature and darkness to her eyes shocked Harry. He sat upright in his chair, in disbelief that this conversation was still occurring. He didn't think that there was anything to debate about. He gave them all he ever wanted to and decided that was equal to what Narcissa risked for him. "They didn't even stick around. As soon as Narcissa realized Draco was safe, the family fled from battle like cowards."

"I know," spoke Andromeda, once more having the truth be confirmed by him. "She was always more interested in looking out for herself."

"As she's doing now." Harry slid the letter over to the grieving woman. He never realized how long she had been grieving, or how much. Her pain descended past a late husband, daughter, and son-in-law, but rooted deep into her childhood. She grieved her roots and remained in denial about its true evil depths. Harry softened his voice. "She hasn't told anyone. She's covering her options. Would she even speak to you if Bellatrix had survived?"

Harry hated the sound of that name. It was one of many, and he knew it had the same effect on Andromeda. She remained stoic, though. Her emotions were barely visible through the exhaustion on her face. If her family life was as bad as Sirius described it, then it made sense. She, too, had been burned off the Black Family Tree. For the first time, Harry wondered if Sirius had felt the same anguish that Andromeda still did. After all, in the end, he lost a brother, mother, and father, as well.

Andromeda collected the letter and stood up. "Ted always told me that I needed to forgive. He told me that I was hurting myself by allowing myself to be consumed in hate. Even though they disowned me, they'd always be my family." She spoke softly. "He was a better person than I'll ever be."

"I'm sorry," said Harry, excusing himself from the table. "But if you wanted my opinion, that's it. I don't think Teddy needs to be surrounded by her. But you're his grandmother; you get to make the final decision."

**12:45pm**

Harry flooed home, after promising Teddy that he'd take him to the park on his next day off. He hadn't intended on leaving Andromeda's that early, but he didn't want to intrude on the decisions that she had to think about. It was the worst part of Teddy's living arrangements; he didn't receive custody. According to the wills, he was named a guardian. However, Harry recognized his young age at the time, as did the Ministry, and he had wished a multitude of times that he had a relative that actually cared about him. Teddy did. Andromeda was his blood. Even when he disagreed with her, he'd never take that away from the child.

But it made an evening shift at the Auror Department less appealing. It was more thoughts to maul over while trying to prove that his frustration and anger directed at the past wouldn't hinder him. Being an Auror wasn't what Harry had expected; it reflected more like the rules and regulations set upon by a school then actual fighting. Harry was forced to catch up and learn the system, despite Kingsley, the Minister of Magic, ushering him into the department. There was strict guidelines and paperwork to follow up actions on the events. And Robard felt that Harry was too rash on the field. Fortunately, he didn't like Ron any better.

Dusting himself off, Harry wandered into Grimmauld Place. Initially, after the war, he had planned to stay for only a couple weeks at the start of Ginny's and Hermione's last term at school. It sounded like a good plan, as well. Ron and Harry would fix up the place enough to function in and find something better down the line. However, they spent most of their time helping collect Death Eaters with the Ministry, and then were ordered into the Auror Training Program the following fall. By that Christmas, they decided to remain until farther notice. Hermione had practically moved in and helped them with the cleaning spells that they hadn't figured out. Overall, the ancient house turned out to be a decent living space. They only had to keep Walburga Black's portrait covered. One day, they'd figure out how to take her down. Maybe, Harry could ask a charm worker at the Ministry.

"Sit down on the bloody couch," ordered Ron from inside the parlor. "I already told you I don't know when Harry will be back."

"Ronald, be nice." Hermione warned under her breath and swatted lightly at his hands on the piano keys. "Obviously something's really bothering her."

Ron crooked his head toward his girlfriend. "Yeah, well, her constant pacing is driving me barmy."

"She's your sister," chastised Hermione.

Ron spun around on the piano stool and looked at Ginny. Her face was paler than normal with a green tint. It reminded him of a bad case of the flu, but he had learned long ago to not comment on her appearance. Plus, it was the frantic jumpiness of her gaze and the way the rubbed her hands together while pacing that caught his attention. He sighed. "Look, Ginny, I've already told you to go home. You've got a game tomorrow and-"

"No, I don't!" Ginny turned to face Ron, throwing her hands into the air. "I don't have a bloody game tomorrow."

"Yeah, you do. You feeling alright?" Ron scrunched up his face. "It's against Puddlemere-"

"I know who it's against, you git," snapped Ginny, returning to her pacing. "I'm not daft."

"Jones benched you?" Harry asked from the doorway, deciding to partake in the conversation finally.

Ginny jumped and turned to face him. This wasn't exactly how she had intended their first talk since the fight to begin, but it was how fate decided to hand it to them. She nodded weakly. "Yeah."

"What? Has she gone mental?" Ron hollered. "Who's she got to replace you?"

Clinching her fists, Ginny slowly turned to look at her brother. Her mind felt sporadic again. Everything spun slightly and she grew angry rapidly. It reminded her of the beginnings of her melt down at the Burrow. However, instead of yelling, she wanted to cry because it wasn't a matter of what she was going to do, it was what she had decided.

"Diaz. The girl whose position I replaced in the first place," informed Ginny, matter-of-factly.

"I thought she had a kid," replied Ron, causing Ginny to roll her eyes.

"Yeah, tons of Quidditch Players have kids. Not my point." Deciding to ignore Ron's farther questions, Ginny turned back to Harry and took a deep breath. "Harry, we need to talk."

* * *

**A/N: So, once more, I am horrible at giving decent updates, but I finally made it through my uni semester and had time to work on this. It was going to add more Harry/Ginny in this, but decided this flowed better to end where I did. I really appreciate all the feedback and reviews. And I really tried to include Teddy more into the story, as well, as I wanted to show that he was a big part of Harry's life. Anyway, thank you for reading, your patience, your criticism, and your feedback. I hope that you enjoyed. **


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